


The Consequence of Running Out of Pants

by ladyoneill



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Good Peter Hale, M/M, Pre-Slash, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Washing machine broken, Stiles heads to the laundromat at two in the morning where he runs into Peter and maybe sees a different side of him...maybe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Consequence of Running Out of Pants

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Pic for 1000, 2016 and [inspired by this pic](https://www.flickr.com/photos/slowhan_d/9589497884). No end of Season 4 or Season 5, so Peter is not evil and did not stupidly team up with Kate to kill Scott, because just no. This is a pre-relationship, but there's attraction and something about to happen. Stiles is eighteen.

When he's reduced to wearing Batman pajama bottoms as pants, Stiles reluctantly gathers all his dirty laundry into a basket and prepares to head to the nearest laundromat. They've been waiting on a replacement part for the washer for nearly two weeks now and for the last week every call to the repair shop has resulted in 'tomorrow'. Stiles figures tomorrow is never going to come.

His dad gets a discount at the dry cleaner's for his uniform, and Melissa took pity on him the week before in the big underwear crisis and let them use her machine, but Stiles doesn't want to bother her again.

Also, it's nearly two in the morning.

He'd planned to head out earlier, but got lost in wiki links beginning with a Titan (with a capital T because apparently gods are a thing) and ended up on the Victorian definitions of flowers.

His mind is a weird place and so is wikipedia.

So, basket loaded into the jeep, he heads down the quiet street, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along with Taylor Swift--don't judge him--and tries to convince himself that this will be fun.

He's never been to a laundromat before.

Yeah, it'll be fun.

....

He'll probably get attacked by something slimy and/or pervy.

Sighing, Stiles wishes his life was less weird.

When he enters the building, he silently curses his luck.

His life is also so damn predictable.

Leaning against a table is Peter Hale reading a well-worn paperback book.

Pervy it is then.

The werewolf noticeably perks up, then lowers his book and gives Stiles a smarmy smile. "My favorite packmate."

Except for a bored clerk half-dozing behind a counter, they're alone.

"My least favorite zombie."

Peter's smile gets bigger and he pushes off the table to slink towards Stiles who is diligently and desperately trying to ignore him as he loads two washers, one with pants, one with shirts, hoping that his one red t-shirt is old enough that it won't fade into the other colors because he underestimated the price and only has enough money for two loads.

Really, they only take coins? How archaic.

"Cute pants."

Trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks, Stiles digs out some quarters and starts slamming them into the coin slots. "Washer's broke."

"Obviously."

Rolling his eyes, he asks, "And you're here, why?" before silently cursing his natural curiosity.

"It's one of the best places in town to find lonely, desperate women."

"Sounds like you're the desperate one." Shut up, stupid mouth!

Chuckling darkly, Peter obviously purposefully brushes against Stiles' back which makes him shiver. "Or lonely, desperate men. I'm not picky," he breathes into Stiles' ear.

He's delighted at the grunt the werewolf lets out when his elbow connects with his diaphragm.

"I dated your daughter."

"Eh, it's not like I raised the girl."

As the machines start, Stiles finally turns around, catching Peter off guard for a split second. There's an oddly wistful look on his face, before his usual smirk replaces it.

"Since we're the only ones here, I guess you struck out tonight, huh?"

Peter shrugs. "Unless you're up for an assignation in the bathroom."

"Ew." Except his dick twitches at the thought.

The wide grin returns to the older man's face. "Your mouth says ew but your body..."

"Double ew, pervy wolf." Sometimes he hates his eighteen year old body which reacts way too easily to hot older werewolves. Stomping over to a chair, Stiles slumps down into it, taking out his phone and flicking on Candy Crush. He's not surprised when Peter sits right next to him, despite there being four other chairs empty next to them and six more across from them.

"So, what's your reason for waiting until nearly two thirty in the morning to do your laundry?"

Stiles shoots him a glare then refocuses on his game.

"From your wardrobe I assume you aren't on the prowl."

He can actually hear the smirk, and sends Peter another glare, that just makes the werewolf laugh.

The bell over the door chimes and two twenty-something women come in, chatting with each other, both wearing uniforms from the diner that closes at two.

"Look, women, go, fetch," Stiles hisses.

"Hey, Peter," the blonde greets him with a tired smile as she moves to an open machine. "I'm nearly finished with 'The Man in the High Castle'. You're right, the book is very different but just as good as the show."

"I was hoping you'd be in tonight. I have a new one for you." As he speaks, he rises to grab his bag and pulls out another paperback. "'1632. It's lighter and the best of an ongoing alt history series." He hands it to the woman who thanks him with a smile.

The brunette finishes loading her machine and joins them. "I'm glad to see you, too. Your advice worked perfectly. I played hard to get and Jonah fell all over himself. I'm pretty sure he's gearing up to ask me to marry him."

"Men are simple creatures. Women being too accommodating makes us lazy." 

As the smile on Peter's face is probably the first genuine one he's ever seen, Stiles can't help but gape at him. He's still gaping when Peter retakes his seat next to him and the two women sit across from them.

As the three continue to chat about books and men, Stiles stares until blondie asks, "Who's your friend?"

"This is Stiles. I believe you're showing him a new side to me."

"You could do a lot worse than Peter. He's the nicest guy we know."

Peter turns to him, all arched eyebrows and hot icy eyes, and Stiles' dick twitches again.

He is so doomed.

All because he ran out of pants and now he's going to end up losing these, too. If he's lucky they'll end up on the floor of Peter's bedroom. More likely, they'll disappear in the footwell of his Jag.

Doomed.

End


End file.
